The Sound of Grief
by Alahnore
Summary: "You are a wonderful mother," she hears. All she wants to hear is her baby, but it seems little Yuri was lulled by the soft sounds of grief. \\ Pregame. Attempt at characterization/backstory for Yuri's parents.


It isn't easy, living in the Lower Quarter—no one here would say otherwise, but even severe, no-nonsense Liliya Lowell appreciates the closeness the community had. Without that, she knows no one would survive down here… and she knows her husband and her would have absolutely nothing. As much as she loves the others, Liliya always wakes up with the resolve to do her own part, so instead of being the helped she is the one who helps.

Grigory does his part, of course. While Liliya did easy jobs like help maintain the inn with her friend, Grigory goes out and works at least two jobs to help bring in gald to keep above the taxes. Every year, the taxes get worse, and someone gets evicted from their homes so the nobility can buy the plot… and do nothing with it. Liliya has seen her far share of rotting houses and land, all because the nobility just want to have something but not take care of it.

So far, the Lowells scrape by every year. But it only leaves them with handfuls of gald for food and clothes, and so they can never help their fellow denizens. It sickens Liliya, and every night she declares her hatred of the spoiled nobility.

Grigory pulls his wife into his arms and tells her hate was a waste. Grigory always was a wise man, Liliya thought. And so they keep scraping by.

A blissful curse comes to Liliya though, and after so many days of feeling sick, of feeling her stomach swell in what she thought was terminal illness, she feels it. Against her palm, if she focuses, there is a soft kick-like sensation.

Realizing what it means, Liliya wails in the middle of the inn tavern and falls to the floor, several patrons rising and rushing to her aid.

_I believe that the future will bring something worthy,  
That will be worth this feeling…_

Grigory is worried when he returns from work. He finds his wife curled up in their shared pile of hay and tattered cloth, under the blanket with patched holes. Liliya is sobbing, holding their one tiny flat pillow to her chest, and Grigory rushes to kneel at her side, to hold her, afraid her illness has come to claim her.

But Liliya takes her husband's hand in hers, and when she puts it over her swelling stomach, he realizes what it means. His face goes white, and the first word out of him is a soft, despaired, "No…"

There is no mistake that the Lowell couple love each other. Although Grigory was always trying to be optimistic and smiling, and Liliya would sooner scowl or scold, there is love between them. But for all their love, they knew they could never have children, because children require gald to keep alive and keep happy. The Lowells had no gald… certainly not enough to have a third mouth to feed, a third body to clothe and provide clean water to bathe. They barely had any to keep themselves alive, it would be cruel and an injustice to birth a child in this environment.

Yet even as they know this, Liliya looks to Grigory and sees the hesitation there. She can see, so easily in those dark grey eyes, that he was envisioning the too-perfect happy family they could be. And when Grigory looks to her, he knows she is seeing the reality. It would be futile.

But even under that realization, he also sees hesitation.

Grigory runs his fingers through Liliya's short-cropped black hair, feeling the uneven ends of it before running his fingers through again. Every couple of years, Liliya shears off her lovely hair to sell to greedy nobility who were jealous of its natural beauty. The fact that not only must they both work, but they must cut off parts of themselves to sell to survive… it should be enough evidence to be against this.

But Grigory thinks of their child. He wonders, was it a boy or girl? Would they have Liliya's beautiful hair? Would they be raised to be more optimistic like him, or more realistic like her?

Would they ever be born for him to find out?

_I only wish to protect my one love,  
There must have been a meaning to everything…_

Grigory finds a third job, while Liliya gains a second. They have to work more, in order to have money for their baby.

His third job is dangerous, Grigory knows. But he was pretty decent with the sword, and to keep his family alive, he puts the skill to use. Every week he goes out with other poor, barely trained men and young boys, and he hunts down monsters for the parts nobles want. Grigory learns quickly that it doesn't matter how much he brings back, or if he does most of the work; the noble gives him a handful of gald and that was that. But it was a handful more than he made before, and Grigory learns to deal with it just for a bit longer.

Because it doesn't matter who does what, Grigory stops focusing on the monsters and focuses on protecting his teammates. Some don't appreciate this, but the young ones do. Grigory can't imagine what Zaphias is coming to when boys barely able to wield their swords must put their very necks in danger in order to survive.

Grigory hopes, more than anything, he can spare his future child this fate. They can only put away a gald or two every few pay days, but he prays it was enough. It has to be.

When he returns from these expeditions, Liliya always tells him not to go back. She demands it even, but he gently reminds her he does it for their child. She says it's an excuse, but to Grigory, it was the most important reason.

He skips meals as well, saying the noble feeds him when he goes. The noble doesn't, but he can't have Liliya go hungry. She was with child, and so he gives her his portion as often as he can. And when he can't give it all to her, he makes sure she gets most of it. These days, Lower Quarter food isn't the best, but it would do. So long as she had food, Grigory prays it'll be enough to see their child be born healthy.

If humans could be sustained by love alone, he knows all three of them would be so healthy…

There are days when Liliya's pessimism wanes, though. And those days, she'll happily curl up with Grigory and speak excitedly about their baby. One night, she was in such a mood, and suddenly she exclaims. Grigory panics and she laughs, explaining that the baby was kicking strongly.

"So, the baby is healthy," Liliya explains her logic.

Grigory can only smile at that. "Perfect. They'll be the strongest baby around."

"We should figure out a name."

Grigory chuckles, kissing her forehead before wrapping his arms around her. "We don't even know if we'll have a boy or girl."

Liliya shrugs, but she doesn't press the issue. It was time to let Grigory sleep, so instead she kisses his chin. "I love you."

"I love you." He answers, and seeing his wife's smiling face, Grigory knows all will be all right.

_I wish time could just stop right now,  
While my loved ones are smiling._

Liliya cuts off her hair again, yet it wasn't as long as usual. She gets a little less gald, but that was okay, because all of it was going into saving. There had been a surge of patronage at the inn, which led to an increase of orders at the bakery, and her pay when up a little bit. Enough that those could cover this month's taxes and all of this could go toward the baby.

Liliya carefully walks back toward the inn, one hand holding her skirt up from the muddy ground. The rainy season was probably part of why there had been more people to the inn; the Lower Quarter gate was the only one still open late at night, and if people wished to have shelter they had to settle for their paltry place. It must have been a sign.

When she returns to the inn, she is greeted with smiling faces, many looking to her large stomach. She was getting closer, and the Lower Quarter denizens were terrible at hiding their excitement. It was a rough life here, but Liliya knows everyone would love and support her and Grigory to have their baby. Hopefully, they would save enough to not have to rely too much on others.

Afternoon fades into evening, and Liliya waits at the inn for Grigory to come home. Hopefully that stingy noble pays all of the men evenly this expedition—the stupid fop had decided to go with the team to ensure they hunted the right monster. Apparently, there was some amazing creature with a priceless horn roaming about nearby, and the greedy noble wanted not the horn, but the creature itself! Liliya worries, but her friend tries to reassure her it will be okay.

Evening becomes night, and Liliya remains at the inn, working overtime while she waits. Overtime the keeper said he can't pay her for in gald, but he offers her some of the leftovers to eat. Liliya can hardly eat a bite of the almost-cold stew, and she feels her stomach cramp, as if the baby itself was worried.

An Imperial knight comes to the inn sometime past midnight. Liliya had taken over the check in counter, and as he approaches, she puts on her best smile.

"Checking in?" she asks as nicely as she could, but even to her, her voice was strained.

But despite that, the man looked to her with kindly blue eyes. It takes her a moment, but Liliya recognizes him—one of the few knights who lives in the Lower Quarter. Last she heard, his wife has recently had a baby boy. Although they were poor as well, he was certainly making more than the rest; Liliya envies that.

"Mrs. Lowell…" Finath—yes, his name was Finath she remembers—says softly. He lifts his hand and puts a sword on the counter.

Liliya frowns a bit. "Mr. Scifo, I can't do anything with your sword."

"It's not mine, Mrs. Lowell."

As soon as he says those words, she feels her blood run cold and her heart ceases to beat. Very slowly, she looks down at the blade. Tied to it was a white ribbon, one she often wore in her hair when she was young and it was long.

Liliya looks at Finath, and he bows his head. There were so many questions in her head, but the first to come out of her mouth is, "Did he die peacefully?"

Finath looks up. "He died honorably. The lord who accompanied them… was about to be gored by the beast. Grigory protected him. By the time I arrived, he had enough life just to tell me he wanted the sword returned to you, since it was your father's."

The lot of good it did to him, or Grigory it seemed. "And I suppose Ragou isn't going to compensate at all for his stupid stunt?" she asks acidly.

Finath places a medium pouch onto the counter. "You know… how his kind is. But let me… because I didn't make it in time."

Liliya looks to the pouch of money. She needs it, she knows, but very slowly she shakes her head. She was so tired of being the helped.

"This isn't your fault, Finath. Thank you, though. You should hurry home."

"Liliya…"

But she pushes the coin purse back to him and takes the weapon instead, holding the simple compact sword to her chest and refuses to look at him. Finath has no choice but to take the coin back and be on his way, only able to mentally promise to help out _somehow_.

When he was finally go, Liliya bows her head and lets the first few tears slip free. Grigory died honorably… but it wasn't worth it. Not for that bastard.

_I thought I could stand anything as long as I was alive,  
Even if what was most precious to me was stolen._

Grigory's body was burned, and even as the Lower Quarter mourns, life goes on.

Liliya works the best she can, and those around her try to help with how they could. But she refuses their money, because if she can't provide for herself, how was she going to provide for her baby?

What little she made was enough to cover the taxes, but it left her with nothing else. She accepts food and clothes, but she can't bear to use the savings. That was for her baby. But the taxes go up next month, and her paltry pay is barely a quarter of it. She sells off many of her belongings, but they weren't worth much. Tearfully she parts with Grigory's, and cuts off almost all of her hair. The compact sword she is forced to pawn off… and even still, it wasn't enough. She is forced to use the savings, and then she has nothing.

The upper class and government are ruthless. Once it was clear she could not pay, and not for a long time, Liliya was evicted.

She lives on the streets, working still, but having no real home. Sometimes she lives with Finath and his family, but never long. She can't bear to be a burden, yet in the end Liliya realizes she's a burden to everyone. Soon she's too far in the pregnancy to stand on her feet all day, and without work, she has no gald. No gald, no food. Normally, Liliya would never give in to actively seek out help, but she had a baby. Her pride had to finally take the fall, at least for now.

"Your father was a wonderful man," Liliya whispers as she finds shelter in an alleyway, under some hastily erected awning. The rain falls around her like tears, but Liliya won't cry. She had done her crying. "Once you're big enough… and we have the money, I'll get the sword back from the shop."

Liliya lightly strokes her stomach, the large thing it was. She doesn't recall other pregnant women having such large stomachs. She fears there might be more than one child, but she only ever felt one kick. Was she ill? Was the baby?

"We'll be okay." Liliya decides, putting aside such thoughts. "Even if it puts me at the mercy of others… for you, baby, it's okay."

She just wishes her heart felt the truth in those words. She doesn't want to lie to her baby, but in the end, Liliya was determined. She was a Lowell, regardless if her husband was dead, and Lowells do not give in, give up or let themselves be put down.

"You and me, baby. We'll make Grigory proud."

At least, she prays they will.

_I feel as though I've heard my heart break,  
And wonder, is it really okay like this...?_

Liliya is accustomed to pain, but this was a pain so very different from burns and cuts and hunger.

It feels like she's being ripped apart, her body split up the middle. The Lower Quarter midwife tells her to breathe, to fight the urge to push for a moment longer, but Liliya knows if she waits too long then neither of them are going to survive.

She feels warm blood trickle along her inner thighs, and she can sense more than see the midwife and helpers running around. Something was wrong, Liliya knows, but she has to get through it. Wrong or right, ideal or not, she has to have this baby. It doesn't matter what happens to her; she'd give it all to her baby. Her and Grigory's child.

Her head spins, her entire body hot and flaring with agony. She sobs, screams, and she can't hold it back anymore. She starts to push, even as the midwife tells her not to.

But in the end, even they know there is little else to be done. The doctor had long since died, and the Lower Quarter could not afford another one. Their medicine supplies were meager at best, and no one knew the first thing of operating. If they had the time, they would take Liliya to the Citizen's Quarter, to a doctor there, but there was no time. She knows this.

It hurts. It hurts more than she thinks she can handle, but for her baby she weathers it. Something that wasn't her baby comes out first, and she feels like there's a waterfall of her blood falling out of her.

_Please. Please, baby. Grigory, please…_

Over and over Liliya pleads. She isn't sure if anything or anyone hears her, but she prays, she begs, she puts aside the pride and she throws herself into the mercy of whatever might help. She pushes, sobs, breathes and hangs on to push again.

Hours of agony should have seen her dead or passed out, but stubbornly Liliya holds on to consciousness and life. Push, sob, breathe.

The baby clears her body soon, and as she goes limp on the table, Liliya listens for the reassuring cry of a newborn. But there were only the sounds of shuffling and the midwife's assistants; no cry, no screech of fresh life.

"Please," Liliya begs softly, pushing aside the clean water, the ampule of what little medicine there was. "The baby. Give it to the baby. My baby has to live…"

The assistant looks torn, but short of forcing it between her lips, there was little to be done. Liliya turns her head away, praying again, clinging to life. She would be fine, but her baby…

"It's a little boy." The midwife tells her. "And he'll be fine. We'll get him to the Citizen Quarter clinic to be sure, too. But Liliya…"

She knows. The older woman doesn't have to tell her. Liliya can feel her life bleed out of her steadily, knowing her chance at living was given to the baby. Maybe it was foolish. Maybe she shouldn't have, but Liliya would never have chosen herself over that of her and Grigory's son.

Their son. He was going to be fine. She promised that, didn't she?

"Do you want to name him?"

Her mind races for a name, something Grigory would be proud of. She can't even see properly, even as she feels the midwife rest the warm bundle on her chest. She can feel the baby squirm weakly, but he was moving. If she strains, Liliya can hear some breaths from him.

"Yuri." She whispers hoarsely. "Like his… his grandfather."

_Yuri Lowell_.

She could hear the soft crying of some of the assistants, and even Mrs. Hanks was sniffling. They were mourning her already—no medicine, and naturally, no blastia. Her life truly was seeping out of her. With the last bit of her strength, Liliya raises a shaking hand to touch her son's head. If only she could stay. She promised they would both be okay…

"You are a wonderful mother," she hears. All she wants to hear is her baby, but it seems little Yuri was lulled by the soft sounds of grief.

Liliya's hand fell from Yuri's head, hitting the table with a loud thud. Even still, he didn't cry, it was as if he had already accepted the loss.

_There must have been a meaning to everything..._

* * *

**Author's Note**: Lyrics used to break up scenes are from KOKIA's "The Sound of Grief". Settings and canon characters are property of Namdai. "Liliya Lowell" and "Grigory Lowell" are not official characters nor are the names of Yuri's canonically nameless parents.


End file.
